


Problem Solved

by Glassdarkly



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Light-Hearted, Public Humiliation, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glassdarkly/pseuds/Glassdarkly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy decides that the only way to make Spike behave is to get mediaeval on his ass. Literally. </p><p>That word is so misused, but you know what I mean.</p><p>Set in the BtVS season 4/5 hiatus, everyone is in their canon relationships for the period. On the other hand, they all seem to have mislaid their brains somewhere. </p><p>First posted to Livejournal in October 2008. Very, very slightly revised in 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Problem Solved

**Author's Note:**

> Contains one blatant anachronism (ie. YouTube did not exist at the time this fic is set).

Giles took off his glasses and polished them hard. 

"And you're sure this will work, are you?"

"Huh?" Buffy gaped at him. "Oh come on, Giles. I thought we'd all agreed this was the right way to go about solving our little Spike problem?"

Giles kept polishing. "We had – that is – " He glanced over into the corner of the room, swallowed, and polished even harder - "I still don’t quite understand why _I_ have to be present."

Willow stuck up her hand. "Me either, Buffy." She glanced at Tara, who was beet-red to the roots of her hair. "I mean, isn't it kind of weird?"

Buffy blinked in surprise. "Weird in what way?" Then she stuck her hands on her hips and glared at Xander, who was trying to edge behind Giles in the direction of the door.

"Where do you think _you're_ going?"

Xander froze. He gave her a sheepish grin.

"Nowhere."

Anya leaned her elbows on the counter and propped her chin on her hands. Her bright dark eyes went from one face to another.

"I, on the other hand," she said, "am happy to be here, first, because unlike the rest of you, I'm not afraid of exploring my darker urges, and second, because Spike most likely has a cute butt."

"An- please!" Xander clapped his hand to his forehead like a man in despair, but Anya just gave him a puzzled look.

"But Xander, just the other day when we were watching that movie – you know, the movie with that guy with the cute butt?– _you_ said –"

Giles cleared his throat loudly, drowning out what Xander might have said. "And this is precisely why _I_ shouldn't have to be here."

Buffy set her hands on her hips. 

"You guys are just..." 

Words failed her for a moment. Hadn't they been over this, like, a gazillion times, and yet here they were, still trying to make a big deal out of it?

She squared her shoulders. "Look, no matter what Anya says, no one is getting their rocks off here. Certainly not me, because eww! Not you –"she pointed at Giles, then gulped and looked away from him quickly – "and not you either." The accusing finger turned on Anya. "We're just gonna punish him in a really, really humiliating way." 

Anya gave her a look of sunny incomprehension. "If you say so."

Buffy glared at her. Then her gaze swung round to the same corner of the room Giles had been busy not staring at. "Yes, you heard me, mister -punish." 

She turned to the others again. "And Giles will take pictures, and if our fangy wannabe nemesis here makes any more trouble in future, they'll be up on the 'net so fast he won't know what's hit him."

There was a long silence while everyone stared at her. At last, Giles cleared his throat again. 

"Well – when you put it like _that_ –"

"I do." Buffy put on her most determined expression as she strode over to the corner Giles was having all the trouble with. 

"Got that, Spikey?"

Spike couldn't answer on account of the large, bright red ball gag in his mouth. He couldn't move either, because of being tightly restrained with cuffs and hobble-bars and chains – Giles had some odd things stashed away in the Magic Box basement, in Buffy's opinion - but his outraged face said, _Do your worst, Slayer_.

"Oh, I will." Buffy stood on tiptoe and released Spike's wrist cuffs from the chains that suspended him from the ceiling, watching with some satisfaction as he crumpled into a boneless heap at her feet – a boneless heap with a furious glare on its face. 

"His arms must be quite sore by this time," Anya said, dreamily. "What with being hung up to dry all night. Ah, torture. It's still kind of fun, which is gratifying to know. I wasn't sure it would be now that I'm human."

Buffy nudged the prone vampire with her foot. "This isn't torture. This is justice. Come on, Spikey. Up you get."

Reaching down, she grabbed a handful of the back of Spike's t-shirt and half-hauled him onto his knees. However, with his ankles cuffed and tightly hobbled, there was no way he was walking anywhere, so she Slayer-handled him over to the upright wooden chair she'd set ready for herself. 

Before sitting down, she scowled at Giles, who was supposed to be Camera Guy but who had so far signally failed do any filming.

"Are you getting this, Giles?" 

"Er- sorry. Yes, at once." Giles hastened to switch the camera on. "Action?" he said, feebly.

"Right." Buffy flopped down on the chair, and after a few moments' tortuous manoeuvring of the struggling vampire, succeeded in hauling Spike face down over her knee. His head nearly touched the floor, but with his legs trapped under hers, there was no way he was likely to fall. 

Or escape.

"Well, isn't this cosy?" 

Spike was still struggling, but when Buffy put her hand on his butt and squeezed, he froze. She could hear the explosive snorts of panicked breath from his nostrils and grinned. That was what she liked from her vampires – a little genuine fear.

Planting one hand firmly in the small of his back, she raised her arm. "Okay, let's get this show on the road."

"Excuse me." Anya held up her hand, like an over-eager pupil in class.

"What?" Buffy scowled at her. 

Anya cleared her throat. "Aren't you going to pants him first?" 

As Buffy felt her jaw drop, Anya hurried on, "Historically, exposure of the buttocks is a sign of disrespect, hence mooning, and therefore it follows that exposure of someone else's buttocks against their will disrespects _them_. It's traditional, Buffy. Your audience will expect it."

"They will?" Buffy stared, appalled. Then she frowned again. "What audience?"

Anya smiled her too-bright smile again. "Well, me for a start. When, as is inevitable, Spike does something to piss you off again and you upload this film clip to Youtube, I want to be able to point and mock in the time-approved manner, and so do other people, and that requires naked butt."

"Giles?" Buffy turned a look of appeal on Giles, who seemed to be staring at Spike's butt rather fixedly already, naked or not.

"What?" Giles looked flustered and his face was a dull red. "Er – I have to agree with Anya, Buffy. In these circumstances, a bare – er, bottom _is_ usual."

"Fine." Buffy glared at them both. Then she looked down at the quivering vampire lying across her lap – and he _was_ quivering, his breathing fast and loud. She leaned down so she could see his face, and when he wouldn't look at her, grabbed his head by its shock of white hair and made him. 

His blue eyes glinted murderously, but she was sure she could see fear in them, and besides, the ball-gag stretching his lips into a round, comical O kind of spoiled the attempt to look threatening. As she watched, a trail of saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth.

"Eww!" 

Buffy shook her head. And some people thought spanking was sexy. Like hell!

Carefully, so as to avoid touching any boy-parts, she slid a hand under Spike's belly and began to undo his belt and flies. At this, he started to struggle desperately – so much so that he almost succeeded in bucking off her knee altogether.

"Woah there, boy." Buffy redoubled her grip, like he was a bronco she was riding into the ground, and after a while Spike must have realised his struggles were hopeless, because they lessened and finally stopped altogether. He was trembling all over, like a high-tension wire in the wind.

"That's better." Buffy gave his quivering ass a firm pat and he kind of half-squeaked, half-whimpered and began to shake even harder. 

The noise he made did something weird to her. A strange kind of prickly feeling ran from the back of her neck to the base of her spine and she felt very warm suddenly. 

Full of anticipation, she patted his ass again. "You're gonna get your butt spanked whatever, and I warn you, Spikey, the more you struggle the harder I'll hit, _capisce_?"

There was a long, tense silence, and then Spike nodded. 

The room seemed to have shrunk down to just the two of them – so much so, that Buffy was surprised to look up and find the others still standing there. Xander had gone the same colour as Giles, while Willow and Tara were hugging each other and looking appalled. Only Anya was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. In fact, her eyes were positively beady. 

"You _are_ getting all this, Giles, right?" Buffy enquired sternly of her Watcher. Talking of eyes, surely, Giles's had never been that round?

Giles flushed even darker. He cleared his throat. "Difficult to miss really."

"Don't forget to take some close-ups of his face, especially when he starts blubbering like a girl."

"I won't," Giles said, sounding a little dazed. 

"Okay then." Buffy went back to her fumbling, and this time Spike held still so it was much easier to pop the old brass buttons on his jeans out of their loose fitting buttonholes. 

"Go-ood vampire, take it easy." She tugged his pants down to half-mast, exposing his pale butt-cheeks. "Oh."

"Ooh!" Anya said, at almost the same time. "Will you look at that? I just _knew_ it."

"Anya!" Xander exclaimed again, but he sounded kind of dazed too. 

Looking down at what her handiwork had exposed, Buffy couldn't blame him. 

Spike's butt was cute all right, small, but round and perfectly formed with a nice layer of spankable flesh over the taut muscle. As for his skin – well, she knew from experience that vampire skin wasn't quite the same as human, and Spike's was the colour of old ivory, unmarred by hair or zits, or, if you looked more closely, even pores, it seemed like, 

When she put her hand on it, it had a nice silky texture, like maybe he buffed his ass. 

She opened her mouth to ask him what kind of skin product he used, then shut it with a snap. His 'product' was the whole being a soulless, murderous, _inhuman_ demon, and she was here to rule his ass, not admire it.

She put her hand in the small of his back again, watching with amusement the way the muscles in his butt-cheeks contracted in fear. "O-kay, here we go."

"Ahem!" Anya cleared her throat for a second time, and this time, all eyes in the room, even Spike's, swung in her direction.

Buffy paused with her hand already on the down-stroke. "What is it _this_ time?"

"Aren't you going to warm him up first?" Anya asked, in that same overly perky tone. "You know – start him off slow and work him up to the hard stuff?"

Buffy stared at her, mystified. "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Well –" Anya adopted a serious expression "-if you start off by hitting too hard you'll wear him out too fast – maybe even _before_ you can reduce him to girly blubbering. Even a vampire's butt can only take so much. That's all I'm saying."

"Fine." Buffy gritted her teeth. After this was over, Giles was going to have to do some serious editing to remove all Anya's annoying interruptions from the movie. "I never spanked a guy before – or anyone at all- cuz how weird would that be! It'll probably take a little while to find my rhythm anyway." 

She looked down at Spike's tempting butt again and couldn't help licking her lips, while sweat prickled her hairline. 

When she looked up, the others - apart from Anya, who was still smiling her blazing, helpful smile- were staring at her, mouths hanging open.

Willow and Tara wore identical expressions of acute, red-faced embarrassment, and Xander wouldn't even look at her. 

"Oh dear lord!" Giles muttered. He took off his glasses and polished them yet again.

Spike's reaction, however, was the most surprising, given his precarious position. He began to quiver all over again, but this time with laughter, and Buffy just knew that if it hadn't been for the ball-gag, he would have said something rude about her lack of spanking know-how, with a few choice insults about Riley thrown in for good measure.

She scowled. She might be inexperienced, but she was more than willing to learn.

"That's enough out of you, mister – and Giles, pay attention. I really am gonna get started now."

So saying, she raised her hand again and smacked Spike on his right cheek – not hard, but enough to bring a faint flush to the skin. His laughter died at once.

"That's better." She smacked again, the other cheek this time, pleased with how quickly his skin took colour and with the way that smooth layer of flesh quivered when she struck it. Then she spent a pleasant five minutes alternating from one cheek to the other, again not hitting hard, but enough so he could feel it. 

Long before the five minutes were up, Spike's buttcheeks were a nice, rosy pink and every eye in the room was fixed on her rising and lowering hand. 

Buffy was very warm by this time and the sweat that had been gathering on her forehead was beginning to run down her face. Spike was warming up too. When she paused in her spanking to feel, his cheeks were almost hot. 

"Don't forget to massage him," Anya put in. "If you just keep spanking and spanking, his butt'll go numb, which would be bad for his circulation."

"He doesn't _have_ circulation," Buffy protested, but somehow or other, she found she was doing as Anya had said, stroking and squeezing the warm cheeks to restore feeling. But she wasn't sure whether she was doing it for Spike or for herself, because it was oddly soothing somehow, like stroking a big white cat.

Spike squirmed slightly, humping her leg a little, as if he weren't quite comfortable. 

Well, Buffy thought, he wasn't here to be comfortable. 

"Keep still, mister. I'm not finished with you by a long way."

This time, the volley of smacks was harder, ten to one cheek and ten to the other, repeated over and over for another five minutes, at the end of which his ass was not only fiery hot but a dull, dark pink. Another quick round of squeezing and stroking and she was off again, harder still, jerking him forward with every blow, while as before every eye in the room was fixed on her. 

"Giles," she called, raising her voice over the sound of hard Slayer palm impacting on vulnerable vampire butt, "remember those close-ups of his face –and get some of his ass too."

"Er-" Giles sounded more and more odd, and when Buffy looked up at him, he'd put his coat on for some reason. When had that happened? "I can't actually _see_ his face, Buffy. He's looking down at the floor."

She paused in her spanking again, grabbed Spike's head by the hair and forced him to look at the camera. "Is he crying yet?"

Giles was staring at Spike's face, apparently mesmerised. But, "Not yet," he said. "He's a little snotty, though. Shall I wipe his nose?"

Buffy bent down to see for herself, and sure enough Spike's nose was running, while saliva was dripping freely from the point of his chin onto the floor. There were teeth marks in the ball-gag.

"Eww!" she said, again. "No, leave it – and take a close-up. It'll be that bit more humiliating for him to be caught drooling on camera."

"Good thinking." 

As she resumed spanking, upping the pace this time to twenty hits per session instead of ten, she thought that if she didn't know Giles better she would have said he sounded impressed. 

The palm of her hand was beginning to sting, but she still had plenty of juice in her, while Spike's butt was a bright cherry-red, now faintly overlain with the dull purple of incipient bruising. Idly, she wondered how much more he could take, though she was pretty sure she could outlast him. At any rate, it would be fun finding out.

Time seemed to have stopped. There was only her raising, lowering arm and the impact of firm, hot flesh against the palm of her hand. She noted, dispassionately, that Spike's muscles no longer contracted in terror when he heard her hand coming down. Instead, he seemed to have gone limp, rubbery, only occasionally wriggling a bit as if to relieve some sort of discomfort that had nothing to do with his butt. He'd begun to make an odd kind of mewling sound too - a helpless, hopeless whimpering, like a puppy in pain. 

Yet still she spanked, amazed by her own stamina, until his ass was more bruise than butt and finally – finally!- he began to shake again all over. This time, though, it was to give vent to great, wrenching sobs. She paused again before reaching down and turning his face towards her, to be rewarded by the sight of tears streaming down his face to join the snot and drool. He looked bleary and tired and broken.

"Had enough, Spikey?"

At the words, he went stiff, trying to glare at her while drool dripped from his chin, but then Anya called out, 

"If your hand is hurting, Buffy, I have a hairbrush in my purse you can use." 

Buffy grinned and tilted her head at him, and he froze, an expression of sheer terror on his face. Then he began to shake his head frantically, while incoherent sounds of protest exploded from behind the ball gag.

She frowned. "I'm not sure you _have_ had enough. You still look pretty peppy to me. Maybe the hairbrush is a good idea after all?"

His eyes went round as saucers. The frantic head-shaking became more frantic still, while tears dripped from the end of his nose.

She squeezed his ass again, making him squeak in mingled pain and terror. Then she resumed the stroking and petting, pondering to herself. It was very tempting to continue, but her hand _was_ hurting. And there was always next time. There was _bound_ to be a next time. 

"Okay – say I believe you – for now. What're you gonna do to prove yourself, huh?"

Eyes still as round as his open mouth, he blinked tearily and raised a questioning eyebrow, as if to say, _You tell me_. 

She tapped him on the nose fondly. "What say you be a good little chipped vampire and stay out of trouble by keeping your head down in your crypt for at least a month? I'll drop by every day or so to check on you. I'll even bring you blood from the butchers' if you do as you're told. What do you say?"

He stared at her, blinking owlishly. Then he let out a long, slow sigh and nodded again, and this time she turned his head towards the camera, the moment caught on film for all the world to see. 

"Who rules your ass, Spikey? Is it me, huh? Is it?" 

This time when he nodded, he did it of his own volition before going limp over her knee again. 

She smiled in satisfaction while a sort of collective sigh went around the room.

"By George!" Giles exclaimed softly. "I do believe it worked, Buffy. You've broken him."

"Yeah." She found her hands had gone back to massaging and stroking, smoothing over Spike's fire-hot cheeks again and again. The sight of them, all red and throbbing, made her feel proud, like she'd really achieved something. 

"Look at his poor bottom!" Anya said, in a wondering tone. "It's – day-glo." She made to come out from behind the counter. "Can I feel it?"

This seemed to be the signal to bring everyone back to their senses. Looking flustered, Willow grabbed a magazine from off the table and held it in front of Tara's face. 

"Sweetie, don't look. It's horrible."

Giles and Xander, meanwhile, who'd both been staring open mouthed, pretended to be adjusting the camera, while across Buffy's lap, Spike lay limp, hiccupping gently.

Suddenly, she felt almost tender towards him. "There, there!" She squeezed his poor, sore butt-cheeks. "You done good, Spikey. Real good. I'm proud of you."

At the words, with one last little shudder, he settled even lower, sighing deeply, soft as taffy spread across her knee. She felt his nose nuzzle her leg and a wet face rubbing against her calf at the same time as she felt her pants leg growing damp where he couldn't possibly have drooled on it. 

"Eww! Eww! Eww!" When she realised what had happened, she almost tipped him right off her knee. "You're a pig, Spike!"

"He's ejaculated, hasn't he?" Anya said, in a matter-of fact tone. "I thought he probably would before this was over. More than likely, his sire – Angelus, or Drusilla, or both of them– taught him to appreciate the erotic side of pain."

Buffy stared at her, appalled. Then, she stared at Spike. Was he...purring?

"You mean, he got _off_ on it?"

Anya looked surprised. "Sure. Didn't you?" 

"Goodness!" Willow exclaimed suddenly. "Is that the time? I have to go. _We_ have to go, don't we, Tara? There's that...that _thing_ we have to do."

Tara gave Buffy a look of embarrassed sympathy before allowing Willow to hustle her from the room.

"Wait for me, Will! I have to do that... _thing_ too!" Xander was out the door without so much as a backward glance, while Giles brought up the rear, stooping a little, as if he were in pain, and holding his coat closed. 

Buffy stared after them with her mouth hanging open, while Spike continued to rub his wet face against her leg and purr. 

Anya watched the others go with an inscrutable look on her face before turning back to Buffy. 

"That was very enjoyable." She smiled. "Thank you, Buffy. I think you just solved our Spike problem while fuelling the erotic fantasies of thousands – well, mine anyway, and, judging by your laudable enthusiasm and keenness to learn, your own too. I knew you didn't mean it when you said no one would get their rocks off." 

Smiling her most brilliant smile yet, she picked up a clipboard and headed for the back room of the store.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have curses to inventory." 

Buffy gazed after her, mouth still agape. The damp patch in the place where there shouldn't be a damp patch was spreading fast. 

"Eww?" she said again, uncertainly. Meanwhile, from Spike, now fast asleep across her knee, the purring rose to a smug crescendo.


End file.
